of wednesdays and rain
by Raine Cooper
Summary: the story of a spanish teacher and his student in her final year. Will/Rachel.


**I have to admit. This is the longest thing I've ever written, and I'm really quite proud of it. So, please review :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, just borrowing their characters from Fox. **

For Rachel Berry, Wednesday was already the same. Get up, school, glee, ballet, home. If she was certain of one thing, it would be Wednesday, and how they would never change. Wednesdays tell her that she's home, Wednesday's are her childhood stuffed toy. She's been doing it for her whole life, the only somewhat new addition being glee, but she's been singing on Wednesdays her whole life.

However, this particular Wednesday, it rains.

She groans, pushing herself out of bed to the beat of the patter on her window. On Wednesdays, she walks home, due to a conflict with dad and daddy's work. As she turns on the shower, she silently prays that the rain will stop by the time three fifteen rolls around.

For Will Schuester, Wednesday is his least favorite day of the week. Smack dab in the middle, it taunts the idea of the weekend in his face, but showers him with the pain of the fact he has to wait another two full days. Wednesday's were the days Terri and him fought the most, the day where he finally had enough and left, the day he found out about her secret.

But, as a slight glimmer of hope, he can hear the rain on his sunroof.

Ever since a child, Will has loved, no, adored, the rain. It started when it rained the day he won his first singing competition. After receiving his small trophy, he had pushed past his parents and out into the rain. Laughing and grinning, he spun his hair plastering to his small face. After that, it rained on every day that was important to him. His first kiss, graduation, first job, first day of college.

So, even though Will Schuester knew today was a Wednesday, it was raining. And that's all that mattered.

As the final bell rings, Rachel is grabbing her ballet bag from her locker, changing into her rubber boots, and marching past the doors out into the rain. It comes down in sheets, and she can hardly see four steps in front of her. She curses silently, heaving her heavy bag over shoulder and walking quickly out of the school grounds.

Will is driving home when he sees her. He can see her long hair sticking against her back, her feet shuffling against the pavement. He pulls over a little in front of her, and rolls down his window. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, her lips almost a darker shade of red that they usually are. He calls out her name into the storm, and she turns. Smiling, she runs over to the open window.

"Rachel, get in. You'll catch a cold with no jacket on."

He can see her hesitate, but she nods and runs around to the front, not wanting to repeat the time she last sat in his car. She takes a few deep breaths, soaking in the heat and brushing the hair out of her eyes. Will laughs, and she soon joins in.

"I bet I look like a mess." She sighs, rubbing under her eye to check for mascara. He laughs again.

"Not a mess, just wet. Where were you heading?"

"Ballet. And I'm going be late. Thanks for the pit stop, Mr. Shue." She goes to get out, but he grabs her arm to stop her. They lock eyes for a moment, and Rachel swears she can see some emotion that she recognizes flash across his face, but it disappears before she can name it.

"How far?" he asks, not letting go of the soft feel of her forearm. She swallows.

"Eight blocks?" It comes out as a question, because she's desperate at this point, and she really can't catch another cold. He pulls her in, tells her to do up her seatbelt, and merges into traffic again. It's quiet there, because both of them don't really know what to say. Finally, Will blurts out meaningless words about the club and song choices, anything to break the uncomfortable silence. She follows along, laughing and nodding at the right moments, until she instructs him to pull over at her studio.

"Thanks so much, Mr. Schuester." She smiles, undoing her seatbelt and grabbing her bag. Quickly opening the door, she runs out into the rain and through the glass double doors of her studio.

Not before she casts one last look and wave back at her Spanish teacher. He finds himself waving back.

When Will wakes up the next Wednesday, he can hear the rain again. He opens his window while he cooks himself some eggs, smelling in the flavors of fall and the dampness of the street below. Rachel does the same in her bathroom as she curls her hair. She promises herself to take a better attitude about the weather.

As the day goes on, Will can't help but think about Rachel. He figures she must have class again this week, and he knows she'll have to walk in the rain again. He remembers her flushed face and shivers a little under his sweater, but he isn't exactly sure why.

And, sure enough, he sees her marching firmly towards her studio in her ballet flats and skirt. He's known Rachel for a few years now, and is there's one thing he knows about her, it's her skirts. Rain or shine, snow or fog, she's out in her just short enough skirts that almost make him report her attire to Figgins.

Almost.

When she hears her name being called, she lets out a sigh of relief. He's prepared this time, and hands her the towel from his backseat. She takes it with a thanks, rubbing at her hair.

"I don't see why your dads make you walk in the rain, anyway. Why can't you just take the bus?" He sees her frown. "I'm not saying that I mind driving you Rach, really I don't, but the bus seems like a logical option."

"Mr. Schue. The last time I took the bus, I had three men openly leer at me, two of those men requested my number and one of them just stared. Rain or shine, I would much rather walk." She says stubbornly, ringing out her skirt onto the towel. Will's eyes flicker from her pale, smooth legs to the road. Scolding himself, he counts to four before speaking.

"Yeah, I guess walking would be better." And they laugh, because they suddenly realize this is the easiest thing in the entire world, just them talking.

He takes the long way driving her to ballet, and she doesn't seem to mind being ten minutes late.

Next week, he meets her at her locker. It's rained practically the whole week, but today the sun shines and it's hot like a May day. She protests for the trouble, but he tells her not to worry, and she soon finds herself in his car again.

It begins like this. He knows she's thankful for the rides and the small talk, but all he really needs is the smile on her face when he makes her laugh. Rachel berry finds herself spending more and more time with Will. Her free periods with Will, her lunches with Will. Soon, December comes and she hands him a ticket to a recital that weekend.

And when she steps onto that stage, he grins like a child, watching every spin and every smile she throws into the crowd. He waits for her outside the backstage entrance, giving her the bouquet of roses he had bought earlier that afternoon. She wraps her arms around his neck and he breathes in the smell of winter in her hair, the roses lingering in the air around them.

When he drops her off at the studio the next week for her performance party, he finds himself sad as she undoes her seatbelt.

"Have a good time, Rach." He smiles, not wanting his voice to catch. She looks down shyly at her lap.

"Mr. Schue, I was wondering if…" she trails off, biting her lip and trying not to smile. "Well, I mean, this doesn't have to be it. We could go for coffee next week, or something. Wednesday's will be pretty boring without ballet and I would love it if you…were…in them." She whispers so silently, he can barely hear her. He lets out a quick breath of air before nodding.

"I would like that."

She leans over to give him a hug, but in a split second she changes her mind and plants a soft but quick kiss on his cheek. He smells like a man should, like leaves and fog and rain. She bolts out of the car, running out into the building.

Will feels as if his cheek is on fire.

They drive to starbucks the next week. And in his mind, all he can do is think about how inappropriate this is, and somehow, he needs to stop it.

But, when she comes rushing out of the school in his favorite skirt, all he does is smile. As Will goes to order their coffee, Rachel takes a small look around the café. She catches a knowing smile from a woman across the room, and she wants so badly to stand and scream the fact that he's her teacher.

But she doesn't.

She folds her hands in her lap and smiles into her skirt.

And they talk for hours, people coming and people going. They talk about her dads and Shelby and Terri, and everything that's gone wrong. Finally, when the sun starts to set, he takes her home. The sky is lit in dark oranges and roses, lighting up the sky like a flame. As they drive, Will watches her wide eyes stare at the colours, the reflection bouncing back at him. He walks her to her door step, and suddenly, she has the worst case of butterflies. They stand awkwardly for a few moments before she throws her arms around his neck and he pulls her in closer.

"Thank you." She breathes into his ear, the words hot on his face. He murmurs something into her hair and squeezes a little harder. She pulls away just enough to stare into his chocolate eyes, taking a hand and rubbing a small circle across his chin. His eyes close, leaning into her when suddenly he feels her soft cherry lips on his. She pulls away quickly, a look of confusion on her face and she opens her mouth to blurt out an apology, even though she's not sorry. Before she can, he pulls her by her waist towards him, placing a passionate kiss on her lips. She responds almost automatically, running a free hand though his hair, the other caressing his neck. He cradles her face, moaning lightly against her.

"Will." She whispers with a smile when they finally break, and the name seems perfect on her lips. He breathes out a shaky laugh, nodding.

"I know."

This is how will begins his relationship with a sixteen year old girl. Secret kisses are stolen in deserted halls, touches given in his locked office, secret smiles exchanged during glee club. Everyone is blissfully unaware, leaving Will and Rachel in their own world. Will wonders why it never happened sooner.

For her seventeenth birthday, he takes her to a show of Wicked that a local theatre group is performing, and she giggles when he presents the surprise to her on the Saturday morning. He catches her mouthing along to every song, blushing shyly when he takes her hand into his. He makes her dinner at his apartment, not wanting to be caught at breadsticks, and cooks her his best vegan meal he can. It's not the best thing she's ever had, but seeing him in his kiss the cook apron with a determined look on his face makes it all worthwhile.

It rains when she finally sleeps with him that night. The smell and the sound of the April showers creates an imprint in his mind, his favorite flushed face of hers coming back on her cheeks. He never wants to let her go.

New York finally comes, and when they win Nationals she plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek for everyone to see, but no one asks questions. They sneak away to his hotel room later for their own personal celebration while everyone has dinner.

Months pass, but they soon lose track of the kisses and the touches. When it's finally five months to graduation, he pulls her aside on a Wednesday lunch hour. The irony never catches up to him.

With a kiss, he gives her a beautiful star necklace and the proclamation of his love. Her face brightens, smashing his lips to hers before dragging him into his office and locking the door.

After, she says that she loves him too, and he grins like a child for the rest of the day.

When the news comes of her acceptance into Juilliard, he buys her roses with a feeling of regret. They know they only have this small amount of time left. She tries to convince him to move to New York with her when it's only a month left, but his answer breaks her heart.

"No, Rachel."

"But I don't understand…don't you love me?"

"Of course I do, sweetheart. But your seventeen. I'm not going to steal the rest of your life away from you. " He takes her hands gently. "You're going to find someone perfect for you. Someone who loves Barbra just as much as you do, someone who can throw themselves into something with reckless abandon like you do. Asking you to stay with me is too much to ask, Rachel. This is for the best."

She cries and cries that afternoon, sobbing into her pillow as the sun shines brightly through her window.

They don't speak after that. Well, not until the whole glee club joins her to the airport to wish her goodbye. Will sticks around to be last, making sure everyone is gone before stealing a kiss.

"I still love you." She whispers against him. He laughs humorlessly.

"It'll pass." And she shakes her head stubbornly. He kisses her again, knowing it's their last as her flight is called.

"I'm still your number one fan!" He yells against the crowd as she passes security.

"I know!" She yells back, laughing as she cries. He waves once as she disappears, her long hair trailing after her.

He cries that night, and he can't comprehend why.

Of course, he's not too surprised when he gets the invite to the opening night of the new run of Chicago with Rachel leading the way. He is surprised, however, when he finds himself the only one of the group invited. He sits in the front row, smiling as she kicks and dances her way to the front of the stage, winking at him as she goes.

Later, after roses are given, she introduces him to her boyfriend, Mark, with a smile on her face.

And he smiles right back.

It starts to rain as she waves him goodbye as his cab drives away.

For Will Schuester, rain has always played a pretty big role in his life. And now that Rachel Berry thinks about it, it played a pretty big role in hers too.


End file.
